Pieces of My Life

by Rachel Dann

  ‘Are you with Sebastian from the embassy?’ Naomi’s voice is suddenly sharp, all trace of tears gone.

  ‘Um… yes?’

  ‘Right. Good. Now listen to me, Kirsty.’ I hear a loud sniff followed by the sound of Naomi noisily blowing her nose. ‘Seriously, just listen. He totally has a crush on you.’

  ‘Er, what the – !’ I let out a strangled, high-pitched laugh, feeling my face instantly catch fire, and notice both Sebastian and Liza glance up at me again.

  ‘He does. Honestly. He phoned me already this morning to tell me about the translations – shit, thank you, by the way! – and he was all like Kirsty this, and Kirsty that, and isn’t Kirsty amazing. He absolutely wants to shag you!’

  ‘Er, oh my God, Naomi. I am not having this conversation with you.’ I glance over at Liza and Sebastian again, who are both doing a very poor impression of being completely engrossed in unwrapping a large wooden statue of a racing car. ‘You’re being completely inappropriate. You remember I came here with my boyfriend, right?’ I try to keep my voice low and ignore my wildly pounding heartbeat. ‘Anyway, don’t you have somewhere to be? Roll call or cleaning duty or something? God…’

  Naomi is cackling away wickedly. ‘Yeah, I’d better go. This woman is going to have a litter of kittens if I don’t give her phone back soon.’ There’s a rustling sound and I hear her shout something impatiently behind her in Spanish. ‘But… I just wanted to share the news about Dario. Seriously, I’m just overjoyed.’

  ‘I know. Me too. I’m so happy for you, Naomi… and thanks for phoning me. It… it means a lot that you wanted to share that with me.’

  ‘Yeah, whatever – just remember what I said, okay? He definitely wants to—’

  ‘Ohmigod! Hanging up now!’ I click off my phone, still chuckling to myself in disbelief, and look up to see Sebastian standing alone in the middle of the shop, watching me.

  ‘Oh! Where’s Liza?’ I have to actually bite the inside of my cheeks to force my features into a serious expression and control the ridiculous, inappropriate grin threatening to spread across my face.

  ‘She went out to move the car – neighbours complaining. Naomi have much to say?’

  I study Sebastian’s face, trying to work out if he heard anything, but he’s wearing an expression of polite curiosity.

  ‘Oh… she was just being… her usual self. And very happy about Dario, obviously.’

  ‘Yes, well, I’m glad. She needed some good news.’

  There’s an awkward silence.

  ‘Hey… look, Kirsty.’ Sebastian looks up and I am met with those green eyes. ‘I just wanted to say, I’m so sorry if I upset you the other day. Telling you all that stuff about…’ His eyes flick to the doorway then back to mine. ‘…About Liza, and everything. It was insensitive of me to tell you. You seem to have a lot going on in your own life and I never meant—’

  I reach out and gently touch his arm to stop him. My hand rests there on the soft navy fabric of his jumper and we both stare down at it for a moment. I feel like a tightrope-walker taking their first step out on to the line. ‘Seb, don’t apologise. You might not believe this but finding that out actually really helped me. It made me… re-evaluate a few things.’ I’d barely spoken to Sebastian after the conversation with my mother the other day, just hastily handed his phone back with a hurried thank you then dashed upstairs to have dinner with Liza and Roberto. I feel I owe him at least a brief explanation now.

  ‘This whole trip… to be honest, everything… Liza and Roberto and the prison and Naomi – especially Naomi – are helping me realise a few things that I needed to, um, realise.’ Noticing my hand is still on Sebastian’s arm, and that he is making no effort to remove it, I take it back, but dare myself to give his arm a quick squeeze first. Our eyes meet again. Then he does it. The hair-tuck. I’ve seen it so many times in Jennifer Aniston films, and it always seems like such an insincere gesture. Just reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind a girl’s ear… really? But now, Sebastian’s hand leaving a burning trail of fire across my neck and down to my trembling knees, I don’t think any gesture has ever affected me so much in my life.

  ‘You’d better have your earring back.’ I look down and realise it’s been in his hand all along.

  ‘Right… thanks.’

  ‘And I’d better get back to the office.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And drop off the crazy mutt at his morning exercise class.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Have you… got any plans for this afternoon?’

  I look at my feet, feeling uncomfortably as if I am betraying someone, without even being sure who. ‘Yeah, I’m… I suppose I’ll… Harry and I will probably do something.’ I scuff my feet against the table leg, feeling ludicrously like a teenager again. ‘That was him on the phone before,’ I add unnecessarily. ‘He’s got the day off today.’

  ‘Right, yes. Of course.’ Sebastian flashes me a smile that, for the first time ever, looks somehow forced, then leans and gives me a quick peck on the cheek. ‘I’ll be in touch then – about Naomi.’ With that he waves at Liza, and I hear the little bell of the shop door as it clangs shut behind him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘Phone call for you,’ Liza announces as I stumble into the kitchen for breakfast. I stop dead with my hand halfway to the cereal box, holding my breath. It’s been three long days since I handed Naomi’s translated documents to Sebastian, and it feels like we’ve all been existing within Liza and Roberto’s little house in a state of limbo. Since I confronted Harry about the Skype calls he has been nothing but attentive and apologetic towards me, and I have sidestepped around him, not really believing his explanation, but knowing confronting him again would be pointless. He’d just give me the same excuse – and my gut instinct would just insist in return that it’s not true. I’ve already reached the conclusion that if I’m going to get to the bottom of what he’s up to, I’m going to have to carry out some covert investigations of my own.

  Meanwhile, every time the phone rings, Liza, Roberto and I spring into a state of heightened alertness, hoping for some news on Gabriela’s baby, due any day now, or the date for Naomi’s court hearing.

  ‘It’s your father, calling from their hotel in the cloud forest.’ Liza thrusts the phone into my hands, not giving me any time to arrange my thoughts. I still haven’t heard back from Dad about whether he plans to come back to Quito any sooner, despite his promise to talk to Dorice about it.

  ‘Hello, Dad?’ I try to keep the childish hope from my voice, turning my back to Liza where she is standing stirring a large vat of fragrant purple liquid at the stove, and clearly eavesdropping.

  ‘Hi, love!’ he shouts. It sounds like he’s talking to me from the International Space Station, not a hotel payphone in the cloud forest only a few hours’ drive away.

  ‘The signal is terrible… sorry for not phoning sooner! We’ve been quite… busy out here.’ There’s a long pause, the line crackling and buzzing, and for a moment I think he’s been cut off. ‘We’ve been out in the field every day. Dorice has got some excellent shots.’

  Out in the field? Since when has my father spoken like that?

  ‘That’s great, Dad,’ I reply flatly. ‘I’m glad it’s going well. Now, I wanted to ask, have you decided whether—’

  ‘Hang on a minute, love,’ Dad interrupts, then I hear another voice in the background, a woman’s, and then a muffled rustling sound, as if he’s put his hand over the receiver. ‘Yes, yes, I’ll ask her… hello? Kirsty?’ Dad comes back on the line, just as I was starting to grip the receiver harder in frustration. ‘Sorry, that was Dorice. She wants to check if there’s any news on our new passports, as we fly home next week.’

  I’m well aware of that, I think crossly.

  ‘Sebastian promised they’d be issued by the end of the week, in time for your flight,’ I remind Dad, forcing my voice to remain even.

  ‘
Oh, that’s good… thanks, love. Now, let me just…’ Dad pauses, and the line suddenly improves, as if he’s stepped out of the room or gone outside. ‘And tell me, what’s happening with that prisoner – did you get her documents finished? I’ve been thinking about it ever since you told me.’

  You have?

  ‘Well, yes, I handed the translation in just the other day, so now it’s just a case of waiting for a court date…’

  ‘Great! That’s amazing work, Kirsty,’ Dad enthuses, and I feel the same surge of hope again. When was the last time he actually paid me a compliment like that?

  ‘So, if you can get back to Quito any sooner, I’m free,’ I tell him hopefully. ‘And in fact, I’ve found this really great steak restaurant near Liza’s house. I already phoned up and they have plenty of dairy-free options, for Dorice. I checked—’

  ‘I’ll let you know, love.’ The line has gone crackly again, and I’m filled with the irrational sensation of Dad drifting away from me again. ‘I’ve got to go now – they’ve just brought breakfast over. I’ll call you tomorrow.’

  I say goodbye and stare down at the phone, trying not to let the feelings of disappointment and frustration run away with me, telling myself there is still time to see Dad. I’ll just have to make his last days here count…

  ‘Oh, and this arrived,’ Liza declares, bringing me back to the present. She reaches under the kitchen table and produces a small cardboard box, holding it out solemnly to me, her eyebrows raised so far that they begin to join the dark curls at her hairline.

  I recognise the blue-and-red British Embassy logo on the box and my heart instantly begins to pound.

  Sitting down at the kitchen table I gently prise open the box, only after I have seen Liza turn reluctantly back to her activity at the stove.

  Inside is a small, shiny, obviously brand-new mobile phone, and underneath it a note, bearing just the words ‘Thought you might need this. All part of the service. S.’

  I lift the phone out, turning it over in my hands as if it were a precious relic, an unfamiliar warm feeling tingling upwards from my toes.

  ‘He’s recently divorced, you know.’

  Liza’s voice makes me jump and nearly drop the phone. I’d forgotten she was even there.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Sebastian.’ Liza turns back to stirring the strange purple liquid. ‘He got divorced last year. I just thought you should know.’

  ‘Liza…’ Roberto materialises seemingly from nowhere, his voice carrying a gentle warning as he takes up position beside his wife at the kitchen worktop.

  ‘Oh, er, right. I’m sorry to hear that.’ I reach forward and unsteadily pour some cereal into a bowl, more to give my hands something to do than because I actually want to eat it. ‘Poor him.’

  A long silence fills the kitchen, broken only by the sound of Roberto rhythmically chopping various items of unidentifiable fruit. He begins to whistle tunelessly, periodically leaning over to scrape the slices of fruit into Liza’s pot. I watch him in frustration.

  That’s it? You’re not going to tell me what happened? I stare furiously at Liza’s back, as Roberto carries on his oblivious routine. Chop, chop, lean, scrape, chop…

  Don’t ask. DO NOT ask what happened… I instruct myself sternly.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Oh, it was a terrible business,’ Liza says immediately with a dramatic sigh, as if she’s been holding her breath for me to ask. ‘Wasn’t it, Roberto? A terrible business.’

  ‘Hmm,’ mutters Roberto, chopping and scraping.

  ‘She seemed like a lovely girl. Didn’t she, Roberto? Nice blonde hair. American.’ I stare at Liza, actually holding my breath. ‘She came here backpacking, then, from what I understand, she met Sebastian and simply decided to stay. They weren’t together very long in total. Few years, wasn’t it, Roberto? They seemed so happy at first. Always inviting us over for dinner, such a lovely couple.’ She pauses to take a sip of the purple liquid from her wooden spoon, and I swear she deliberately takes an inordinate amount of time over savouring the taste, then leaning over to sprinkle in more sugar. ‘We went to the wedding, didn’t we, Roberto? Lovely couple. Lovely girl. Or so we thought.’

  So he likes blondes, I find myself thinking inappropriately. ‘So… what went wrong?’ I ask, in barely more than a whisper.

  ‘Well…’ Liza pauses for emphasis. ‘She – Lucy, her name was – confided in me after a while that they’d started trying.’ She puts her spoon down and fixes me with an intense gaze. ‘Even back then, they weren’t getting any younger, you know – they were both nearly thirty.’

  ‘Er – trying?’ I realise I am not following.

  ‘For a baby, of course,’ Liza says impatiently. ‘Anyway, they made no secret about it. Poor Sebastian looked so chuffed… I don’t think he could really believe his luck. But then… a year passed, two years… and nothing happened.’ Something in Liza’s voice shifts, and I get the impression that for the first time she is no longer enjoying telling this story. ‘They tried everything… tests, treatments, Sebastian paid for her to go to all the best doctors. She told me openly that they knew the… problem… was with her. Not him. The few times she confided in me about it, well, it was eating her up. She went half crazy. Poor Sebastian didn’t know what to do.’ Liza stops and reaches to get four mugs out of the cupboard behind her. When she turns back to me, her face is stony.

  ‘Then one day he arrives home to find her in bed with the manager of the school she worked at.’ Liza slams the mugs down on the table.

  I cling on to the table, feeling suddenly dizzy. ‘Sebastian… found them? His wife… Lucy? And the manager of the school?’ Just saying the words out loud makes it sound like something from one of Liza and Roberto’s terrible telenovelas. My heart is roaring in my ears.

  ‘Oh yes. He caught them right in the act.’ Liza hauls the steaming vat of liquid over to the table and slams it down so hard that purple splashes lap up over the edge. ‘Turns out it had been going on for quite some time. Terrible business. Absolutely terrible.’

  ‘Come on, now, Liza… people do all sorts of things when they’re unhappy,’ Roberto says magnanimously, speaking for the first time.

  ‘Yes, well, quite true. But there’s doing things and there’s doing your boss. They’re quite different, wouldn’t you say?’ Liza fixes her husband with a furious gaze. I stare at her in disbelief. Did she really just use the words ‘doing your boss’?

  ‘So. Anyway. That was that. She went back to New Jersey and filed for divorce and poor Sebastian ended up on his own. Oh, it did make me sad seeing him those first few months. Didn’t it make you sad, Roberto? And that poor dog. Abandoned, overnight. She went through all that paperwork to bring her dog out here to live, then just left him behind.’

  With a pang I think of Lewis, and Sebastian’s words flash back into my mind, suddenly making sense. He’s been through a lot lately… silly name really, not my choice… hates being left on his own. A lump wells up in my throat at the thought of Sebastian and Lewis alone in the dark evenings, spending their Friday nights huddled together on the sofa, Sebastian clutching a mug of tea and blinking back tears, Lewis’s head resting dolefully on his knee… I feel like my heart is going to burst.

  ‘He went quite off the rails for a while, didn’t he, Roberto? Nightclubs and drinking and going around on that motorbike of his. Strings of girls. We only know because I used to drop in on him on Sunday mornings, just to take him some empanadas and make sure he was eating. And there was always a different girl there, wasn’t there, Roberto? It was quite shocking.’

  Oh. Right. Well, as Roberto says, people do all sorts of things when they’re unhappy.

  ‘I think he’s calmed down now, though. Accepted it… moved on, as they say in the magazines.’ Liza sighs, and starts ladling the steaming purple liquid into the mugs. ‘Of course, people didn’t get divorced in our time. You just soldiered on through, however unhappy
you were.’

  Liza’s words remind me instantly of my mother, and with a sudden uncomfortable feeling I realise this is the first time I’ve heard anyone imply that staying together at all costs might not always be a positive thing.

  ‘Yes… more fool us!’ Roberto jokes, looking at Liza, his eyes suddenly twinkling. ‘There was no escape for me…’

  ‘Terrible man!’ Liza makes a mock-offended face and playfully chases him across the kitchen, trying to flick him with a tea towel.

  I watch them distractedly, my mind dragged back to thoughts of my mother.

  It doesn’t last, you know.

  Her speech about relationships had been my mantra growing up, through my teenage years and beyond. Until now, the last few weeks in Ecuador, I had never thought to question it. But watching Liza and Roberto, despite all they’ve been through and their bickering, it is clear they still love each other. The uncomfortable conviction that has been growing inside me since we arrived here comes to the surface again. What if it can last? The spark, the closeness, the trust…

  Pushing those thoughts aside again I take a cautious sip of the mug of purple liquid Liza has placed in front of me. It’s completely delicious, warm and comforting and fruity, just the right mixture of sweet and sharp. I bow my head and pretend to be engrossed in the drink, my head suddenly spinning with images of Sebastian and Lewis and a beautiful smiling blonde woman who looks inexplicably like Claudia Schiffer.

  ‘Buenos días, everyone!’ Harry’s cheery voice behind us makes me jump and spill purple liquid down my pyjama top. Without thinking I quickly grab the British Embassy box containing my new phone and shove it on to the chair beside me, out of sight, a strange sense of guilt creeping through me.

  Not that Harry would have noticed it. He’s standing in the doorway, dressed in black trousers and his Serious Shirt with the navy stripes, sandy hair still damp from the shower, our set of keys to the apartment dangling from his finger. I am still processing how handsome he looks when he bends to hug me then goes over to Liza and kiss her on the cheek.